


Carol of the Bells

by enigmaticblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-08
Updated: 2010-04-08
Packaged: 2017-10-08 19:06:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carol of the Bells

“I don’t understand.” Castiel sat on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, as though getting closer to the TV would somehow make _It’s a Wonderful Life_ more comprehensible.

Dean sighed. “You never understand.” He turned his attention back to George, who had just rammed his car into a tree. Dean had never quite been able to figure out whether he loved or hated this movie, but his other option was yet more futile research, and Dean wasn’t interested.

“But it’s not true,” Castiel protested, clearly affronted the children’s rhyme. “Ringing a bell does not give an angel wings.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m aware of that, Cas.”

“But why would they say that?” He sounded so bewildered that Dean had to choke back a laugh.

“It’s a movie.” Dean sighed and muted the set, realizing that Cas wasn’t going to let this go. “Look, it’s about a guy who gave up everything for his family, and who thinks the world would be better off without him.”

“You feel sympathy for this character?”

Dean shrugged. “He’s the great American hero, right? Doing good even though he’s stuck in a life he doesn’t want.”

“But you are not.”

“Stopping the apocalypse? Not something I signed up for,” Dean muttered, wanting to change the subject. “Anyway, Clarence is just there to get his wings by convincing George to live. He’s a plot device.”

“Angels should not be used as plot devices.” Castiel wore the same expression he usually did, but Dean could read him as grumpy by now.

Dean snorted. “You really think they’d do you guys justice? Besides, Hollywood gets _everything_ wrong. Don’t feel special.”

Cas fell silent, and Dean turned the volume back up, focusing on the movie for all of ten seconds before turning off the television completely. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

It was the sort of “yes” that Dean didn’t believe for a minute. “Come on, Cas. You aren’t upset about the movie, are you?”

“It’s not that,” Castiel said slowly, turning slightly so that he was profiled against Bobby’s faded wallpaper. “I—I don’t think I’m truly an angel anymore, Dean, and this makes it appear as though a single bell ringing…”

Dean heard the disgust and self-loathing in Cas’ tone, saw how his knuckles went white where his fists clenched on his knees. Dean’s borrowed green t-shirt hung loose across his shoulders, and Dean’s amulet rested against his breastbone.

Although he’d thought about asking Cas to give the amulet back, Dean knew that for Cas to give it up meant that he had lost hope, and Dean wasn’t about to risk that.

Losing Ellen and Jo a few weeks back, and Cas’ sudden inability to exorcise demons, or travel more than a few feet at a time, had taken the heart out of all of them. Dean wasn’t going to ask Cas to give up his last shred of hope, not when the Colt’s failure to kill Lucifer had made all of them begin to question whether they could even win this.

“It’s just a movie,” Dean soothed. “Just a silly rhyme for a movie.”

Castiel shook his head, looking so lost it made Dean’s heart ache. “I will be of no use to you as a human.”

Dean was reminded of the Castiel of the future, who had lost everything, and who still followed a Dean he no longer believed in.

He never wanted to be that man; Dean never wanted to fall that far.

“You’re not human, not yet,” Dean said quietly, scooting closer to Castiel on the couch. “And no matter what, we’ve got your back, Cas.”

Castiel’s hands unclenched, and he rubbed his palms on the legs of his jeans, still not looking Dean in the eye. He was too quiet, and Dean had no idea how to comfort him.

“Hey.” Dean gripped Cas’ shoulder hard. “You’re the best damn angel around, as far as I’m concerned. It’s your dick brothers who should be ashamed.”

That got one of Cas’ almost-smiles, and Dean grinned. “Hey, I know something better than bell ringing. You might not get your wings back, but it’ll be something.”

“What’s that?” Castiel’s wide, blue eyes were innocently curious, and Dean leaned in to do what he’d been wanting to for a long time now. His lips pressed against Cas’ in a brief, almost chaste kiss.

When he pulled back, though, Cas followed him hungrily, one strong hand gripping the back of Dean’s neck, a desperation in his movements that was not at all angelic.

Dean’s hands framed Cas’ face, and he thought that he’d start up a whole damn bell choir if he thought it would help Cas, keep him from making that long fall from grace.

But since it wasn’t possible, maybe Dean would just make sure he was waiting for Cas when he fell.


End file.
